Dango
by lirance
Summary: Oneshot. When Naruto joins ANBU, it is a little like coming home after many strange and wonderful things. Sometimes, there is a simplicity in returning to those who raised you that feels better than any battle rush.


Dango

When Naruto joins ANBU, it is a little like coming home.

He thinks of his childhood, of sitting at the kitchen table that is still just a bit too high and eating sticky dango whilst masked ANBU lounge against the cabinets in a way that is just a bit too deliberate and play cards and talk rapid, stop-shutter, stammer voices that are just a bit too broken, swapping gossip and mission-slang and speak as if they are ever so slightly afraid that they can never stop. They have the carefully inflection-less, impassive, accent-less voices that all ANBU cultivate, and even years later, Naruto can pick out an ANBU at just the drop of a sentence, even when they walk in plain-clothes and smile sweetly. _(He had Kakashi-sensei pegged from day one, and would have said, with a child's bursting, bright excitement, but for the flicker of something in his teacher's eyes just a little too much like his caretakers'.)_

He thinks of being tiny, and wrapping his arms around a cold neck and whimpering that he couldn't sleep, and being soothed by a voice that hummed songs of melancholy and war, for ANBU remember no other songs, and Naruto never learned any more.

He thinks of sleeping curled up in a battered bed with a stuffed frog and an ANBU easily stretched out beside him, and hearing poorly-muffled cackles from the guard's colleagues, not minding at all, for they also come to sit on the mattress or sprawl out in the corner or sit on the windowsill.

Nor does he mind when he is pronounced old enough to boil ramen and wash himself and keep the battered apartment clean by a social worker with the stench of hot, bitter, dark October nights clinging to his skin and something like oblivion in his eyes, for they do not leave, even then.

In the morning, there are carefully clipped-out and saved Ichiraku vouchers pinned to the fridge, and bags of dango on the table, and his landlady never dares to say a word even trembling near harshness. He leaves out clumsy, childish drawings, and they are always gone by dawn, to be folded away in dark rooms, just underneath mattresses and pillows.

And on his birthday, when he huddles on his bed, blankets drawn up tight about his shoulders, the window slides open, and there is Ichiraku ramen and blunted kunai and storybooks for gifts. ANBU are unimaginative at presents, but make up for it with trembling sincerity.

He doesn't know any of their names, doesn't learn until years later that that is because they are the ones who will never get out, either through a bitter retreat into a less harsh life, feeling that they have broken a dozen vows, or a lonely death on a cold field.

You never truly leave the ANBU, but the memories fade, the words die, the nightmares are replaced.

These are the shinobi who won't experience this. Sometimes, you sink in too deep, and too fast, and suddenly, the surface is too bright and the darkness at the bottom too familiar.

They rarely die, for even other ANBU cannot catch their blades, and they are too broken for suicide.

When Naruto joins the ANBU, and collects his sword and mask and armour, the recruiter is briefly startled when she checks the papers, but she nevertheless points him towards his division, thinking little more of it.

It's almost too much like coming home, when trembling hands ruffle his hair and press dango and Ichiraku coupons on him and pull back his mask to see his face, and he smiles.

They are the darkness that cools the fox's fire and numbs his temper, and he is the sunlight.

A/N: This piece was partly about me trying to capture the feel of the Naruto series overall: as something sometimes dark, sad and melancholy, but ultimately, I think optimistic. I see the Naruto series as being about the bad things in life, yet also about trying to overcome them, and I hope that I captured at least a little of that.

And yes, this is kind of AU, but oh well. Given that we see very little of Naruto's life pre-series, and that we don't yet know what happens post-series, I figured that I could sneak this in there. I mean, okay, so we see a young Naruto fending for himself, but I assume that at some point, he must have had caretakers, and who better than the ANBU? I like to think of it being something of a mutual exchange, with caring for a baby-Naruto being a respite from their usual missions (at least, until he reached the toddler stage…)

Huh, I don't usually write author's notes, and I didn't particularly intend to here, but never mind. Hope you find my random babbling/ self-justification at least somewhat interesting?


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